Crossroads
by Kurohane Ookami
Summary: It was one stupid bet that resulted in him working for his brother- as an 'exotic dancer' no less. It was one bet that made him turn his life around. And it was one bet that made him fall in love with Dean Winchester. M for language and themes.
1. Chapter 1

The music pounded heavily against walls of the room. The ears of those listening, surprisingly enough, weren't being murdered in the least; the voices were actually quite soothing despite the deep growl of the bass.

Creamy honeyed skin, flecked with freckles, slowly moved along to the rhythm, almost idly, while a pair of startling green eyes narrowed in concentration. Blond hair stuck out in all directions, and as one leg moved out, the grey sweatpants that hung low on a well-toned torso folded and creased.

"Alright Dean, that's enough! Take five!" a gruff British voice yelled over the music, gesturing up to the random staff member sitting by the stereo to cut the music. Shrugging, the male did as he was told, and silence fell over the large space.

"You sure, Crowley? Wouldn't want Michael hearing you say that." The blond male teased lightly, immediately sitting himself down on the edge of the stage as the music paused and shaking sweat out of his eyes. Silently, he held out a hand, and his water bottle was handed to him. "Speaking of, is he coming on stage with Balthazar and I tonight or no?"

"Tomorrow, he says." The British man huffed. "He's got a last minute class he managed to forget about."

"Ah." The younger male nodded. "Sounds like Michael. And Bela's on tonight too, then."

It wasn't necessarily a question, but Crowley hummed an agreement anyway.

"Yep. The usual routine."

Dean chewed on his bottom lip as he stored the information away, but brightened as a familiar mane of chestnut popped out from behind the bar. Nothing quite like a sibling to distract the male whenever he and Crowley were having conversations.

"Sammy!" he called, leaning back onto his palms and grinning.

Sam, as per usual, ignored him. Perhaps not the easiest feat in the world if you were anyone else, but with him it was as easy as breathing. Instead, the younger Winchester continued rummaging around, making sure that there would be enough of everything and that he wouldn't have to go back to the storage room and grab anything later.

"Busy old woman." Dean muttered affectionately, taking another gulp of his water before hopping back to his feet. "Alright, enough playtime. Time to get this over with. Ellen wants some help cleaning the pub."

**-:-**

He was muttering to himself again. Mind, it was because he was doing math for the bills, but nonetheless, he was talking to himself. Balthazar always teased him about it, but to be honest, he could care less what Balthazar thought. He was an idiot anyway.

Leaning back, the strawberry blond male ran a hand through his hair, brown eyes half-lidded as he quickly reviewed the calculations that he'd done.

Usually it would be Bobby taking care of all of these things, but given that said male was retiring in the early spring of the coming year, he was the one he felt most confident taking over for him.

Still didn't mean that he had to like it.

Grumbling, he opened a drawer and pulled out a bag of sour keys and plucked one of the candies out of the bag, admiring the thick sugar coating only for a moment before he stuck it into his mouth. Chewing slowly, he straightened himself up, sliding the candy over to one side and waiting for the anticipated knock.

Six seconds later, the familiar two tap knock was at the door. A small smile tugged at his lips; his little brother was ever so predictable.

"Come in, Cas." He said, just loud enough to be heard through the door.

The door opened with a slight click, and the smaller male entered, dark haired head ducked down and looking like a beaten puppy. His thin form was dressed in dark jeans and a dress shirt, and a jacket was pulled on over everything.

"Please, sit." Gabriel commented, not even bothering to look at him as he shifted a pile of papers over to one side ever so slightly so that he could rest his elbows on the desk.

Castiel did so, and it was then that he lifted his head, meeting Gabriel's gaze with a steady one of his own.

"Good morning, Gabriel."

Ooh. Monotone. Such childish means of communication when all he'd done was bet he couldn't find anything to hold against him. Not that there necessarily _wasn't_…just not enough to make a point.

"Castiel." He inclined his head. Obviously, Cas hadn't been expecting the full name treatment, considering that he flinched slightly at hearing him say it. Then again, Gabriel mused, he'd been calling his little brother Cas for about as long as he could remember.

"Well. Better not waste any time then. Let's get down to business." The blond clapped his hands before pulling open another drawer and grabbing the papers needed, placing them on the desk so that they were facing Castiel.

"Since you're going to be here for a while, I'm outlining your basics. Right next door is the Roadhouse. It's managed by Ellen, my partner, who owns that half of the business. Though I'm sure you've guessed that by now. There's an entire wing of rooms available for free to the dancers who work here. That offer now extends to you." Gabriel started, trailing his finger along the specifics regarding that arrangement. "As well as that, you'll be given you own storage locker backstage for all of your costumes and the like, as well as a key for the back door. That's the entrance that almost everyone who works here uses."

Castiel nodded silently. It was pretty clear that some of this just wasn't sticking to that little clockwork mind of his, Gabriel noted, but he would come back to that later. At the moment he was on a roll.

"And, since you're brand new to the business, you get partnered up with one of our senior dancers and go to rehearsals and training sessions with them. That includes all of their gym sessions, most of the specific work-outs designed for them, and eventually performances onstage. So, just sign here and we're good to go."

Cas took the offered pen and signed in his thin writing before Gabriel smoothly slid the paper out of the way, eyes going over it quickly before he nodded once in confirmation.

"Welcome to Crossroads, little brother. If you'll follow me, I believe your new partner is running rehearsal." He commented vaguely, pulling open the drawer with all the employee's information and filing it neatly before closing it again.

Snatching his package of sour keys from the desk, the blond male slid out from behind the desk and moved over to the door that led down into the main floor of the club. Opening it, he double checked that Cas was still close behind before stepping out onto the stairs and leaning over the rail to watch Dean as he finished up his current routine.

Castiel paused next to him, unsure of why his elder brother had stopped, but followed his line of vision to the stage, where a single dancer was currently moving slowly to something that sounded vaguely African.

His skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, but he didn't seem to care as he stepped to one side. A thin frame was only just covered with a grey wife-beater, while a pair of grey sweatpants hung low on well-formed hips. Blond hair stuck up in every direction, and even as he watched, Castiel noted how it seemed to fluff out even more.

Then the male paused, and a British voice started to speak.

"Not bad. For the improvisation, I would suggest demonstrating your flexibility with a couple of flips, but other than that you've picked the whole routine up fairly well."

"You know I try, Crowley." The male smirked, sauntering over to the edge of the stage and dropping down to sit. "I think we could do it tomorrow, providing Michael actually shows up."

The other man- Crowley- a lean, muscled man who looked to be in his early forties, snorted, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes.

"Oh, he'll show up alright. I don't care if I personally have to drag him here by the balls, either."

"Always good to know you've got my back there, Crowley." The blond chuckled, shaking his head. "But I wouldn't drag him here by the balls. God knows he might actually need them someday. Not to mention that his voice is just fine as is. I don't think the ladies would appreciate you taking all of that away from them."

Before Crowley could reply, Gabriel sucked in a breath and leaned further over the railing.

"Oh _Deaaaaaan!"_

The blond- Dean- looked up immediately, a brow already quirked as he appraised the pair.

"What?" he called back, relaxing into a comfortable position and huffing. "If this is about the water bottle thing with Sammy, I swear it wasn't me this time! I blame Michael!"

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Dean, if this was about the Holy Water, you'd have known about it by now!" he retorted. "Besides, it was me, if you're really all that concerned about it, so just let it be!"

"Then what do you want?" Dean yelled back in exasperation.

"Say hello to your new partner!" Gabriel grinned broadly, gesturing to the extremely uncomfortable male next to him. "Castiel, wave back now. It's not polite to just say nothing, you know!"

"Hello." Castiel reluctantly replied, half-heartedly raising his forearm in a small wave.

Dean looked him over before raising a brow at the strawberry blond male. There didn't appear to be any need to verbalize what he was thinking- Gabriel knew his long-time friend well enough to guess what he was thinking at the moment.

"You're teaching him everything you know, Dean! And go easy on him- my little brother's not as tough as I am!" he called back with a cheery smile he knew would no doubt earn him a special type of complaint later.

With that said, Gabriel walked back into his office and closed the door heavily. A moment later, Castiel heard the locks click, effectively throwing him to the wolves. The hair on the back of his neck prickled as he felt two pairs of eyes on him, and he swallowed heavily.

He definitely regretted ever betting against Ellen Harvelle in the first place.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean couldn't believe it. How could Gabriel have so many damn siblings? This one, by the looks of things, was going to be a tough one, as he looked up to the small platform that led to the stairs. Although he was slim, he barely had any muscle on him, and despite the fact that he was attractive, he was _definitely_ shy. At least the very _least_ he was uncomfortable with the position that his elder brother had pushed him into, judging by those hunched shoulders.

Crowley was still standing off to one side, looking immensely amused about the whole thing, and as Dean shot him a look that clearly plead for some kind of help, it turned out to be Sam who came to the rescue. Luckily, he'd arrived right after Gabriel's comment on being the one to have spiked his water bottle, so he was blissfully unaware of the events going on in that category.

"Hey, new guy. Come hang out with me while that moron finishes his rehearsal. I promise I'm the normal one." Sam called up, a bottle of whiskey in his hand and a couple of glasses in the other.

Castiel nodded warily, slowly making his way down the stairs, and Dean analytically watched each step with a well-trained eye. It wasn't the first time that he'd had to mentor a new dancer-certainly wasn't going to be the last, either- and years of experience were kicking in.

He was graceful, even if he was hesitant, and his feet were nearly silent on the usually loud metal stairs. With practice, he'd probably be better than Bela, the self-confident bitch that she was.

Crowley seemed to have noticed the same thing, because the older male tilted his head to one side ever so slightly before turning back to Dean.

"Well, you heard the man. Let's finish up here so you can go and take care of your new _student_."

"If you insist." He returned with a mocking bow, lips quirking at Crowley's use of the term student.

Said man turned, gesturing over to the staff manning the stereo, and the music started up again, switching tracks and the next song playing faster. Dean resumed his routine flawlessly, slipping into the new beat as though it were a second nature to him.

Over at the bar, Sam hummed along to the tune, even as he poured himself and the new guy- Castiel, if he'd hear correctly- a drink. He was similarly eying him up, as the other two men had done, wondering how he'd do with a little practice and training under his belt.

"So. How'd you manage to get dragged into this?" Sam finally asked over the music, lifting a brow. "I doubt you waltzed into Gabe's office looking for a job like some of the other people we see come through here from time to time."

"You're not wrong." Castiel muttered, taking the glass with a small 'thanks' in return.

Sam chuckled, though it wasn't mocking. "Yeah, it happens around here. Trust me."

Castiel downed the whisky quickly, gently placing the glass back down on the counter before a wry smirk twisted his lips.

"I thought I knew my brother. Apparently, I was wrong." The dark haired male finally said softly. "That's all there is to it."

"Well, if you think you've got it so bad, you should come hang out with _my_ family. Dean's my brother." Sam snorted, pointing with the same hand he held his drink in.

"Really." Castiel raised a brow.

"Yep. Gabe took us in about ten years ago. Offered us jobs and a place to stay- haven't looked back since."

Huh. That was something else new to add to the list of many things that he didn't know about his brother. Ten years? Castiel had just finished school about then, and Gabriel couldn't have been much older than he was now.

Castiel would have continued to muse on that, but there was a call from Dean, and he reluctantly turned. Sam coughed into his drink at the forlorn look on Castiel's face, but the dark haired male paid no mind to him. No, he was engulfed by his own thoughts on the matter, and they all revolved around one thing.

He was regretting this decision immensely.

**-:-**

"Ellen, we're home!" Dean called, entering the main floor of the Roadhouse.

The blond calmly whistled a tune to himself as he moved over to one of the doors against the wall, and he knocked, Castiel took in the layout of the pub and lodge. To the right, a doorway led into a well-furnished room he assumed was the bar and pub, warm lighting dim for the moment given that it was well before opening time. The rest of the room was fairly bare, save for a couch and chair set that looked like it was placed where it was for the owner rather than the customers.

"Alright then. They must've gone out to grab some groceries. Looks like I'm on my own for this show and tell time." Dean huffed, shifting in his large jacket as he turned back to the dark haired male. "Come on, I guess I'll show you where the rooms are."

Castiel nodded mutely and followed the taller male toward the other side of the room, where Dean fished a key out of his pocket and unlocked another door, opening it and moving into the hallway beyond.

"Alright. This is the guys side of the hall, that's the ladies." The blond counted off briskly, nodding to the respective sides as he walked down the hall, Castiel close on his heels. "I'd tell you to avoid them, but they can take care of themselves so I won't. There's Charlie, Jo, Bela, Meg, and Ellen who live back here, even though Ellen owns this place."

"Whose room is that?" Castiel wondered as they passed another door that was painted a strange moss green.

"Huh? Oh- that used to be Anna's room. Got married." Dean shrugged. "Gabe refuses to let anyone have it."

"I see."

Anna? As in his little _sister_ Anna? The same Anna who was now living in Europe with her husband? How much was he really missing in his family?

Dean began whistling again as the pair made their way to the end of the hall, where a single door rested in the wall. Cheerily, he fished out yet another key from his pocket before unlocking it and moving into the large space, taking off his jacket as he did so and tossing it on the coat hanger that was conveniently placed there.

"And this is home sweet home for Sammy and I." the blond finally said. "It's the largest room, and if you ever need anything either Sammy or myself can be found here or over at the lounge."

Castiel wasn't entirely sure if Dean was attempting to flirt with him or just brag, but at this point he was hoping for the latter.

"Alright." He nodded, glancing around at the main living space that they were standing in.

It was a large room, that much was clear- an open floor plan for the most part, with the kitchen space off to the left with what appeared to be all new appliances and a large bar-like counter that separated it from the rest of the room. There were a couple of leather couches with a matching chair in front of the windows, and there were three other doorways that most likely led into the bedrooms and bathroom.

"Sooooo…you're Cas. Gabe's been talking a lot about you lately." Dean drawled, going to the fridge and grabbing a bottle of beer.

"Has he." The dark haired male asked quietly, not moving from his place just inside the door.

"Mhm." Dean nodded, pulling off the cap and taking a long drink. "He's been pretty excited about seeing you. From what I understand of his gibberish, you guys don't talk much?"

"You could say that." Castiel replied quietly, barely suppressing the flinch that came with that particular set of memories. Screams, loud crashing from outside his room, then a heavy thud as something heavy hit the floor. It had been years ago, but since that violent fight with their father, Gabriel had been seen maybe twice, three times if he counted that one run in at the café a couple years back. "We aren't particularly close."

"Uh huh. I kinda got that." The blond studied him, startlingly green eyes narrowed ever so slightly around the edges. Perhaps there was more to this guy than first appeared. From what Dean understood, Gabriel had cut ties with his father some years ago, and had barely seen his youngest brother since. Something about their father wanting to keep him close and under his thumb so that another rebellion was clearly not going to happen again. But he wasn't all that interested in interrogating the male in front of him- not when he was clearly uncomfortable with the entire situation. There would be time to get to know Castiel over the next however long that he would be working at Crossroads.

"So, we've got another half hour before we need to be back at the club. You want a beer or something? Need me to show you your room?" the blond offered. "It's back down the hall, four doors down."

"If it's not too much trouble." Castiel replied in his soft voice. Dean silently hoped that this wasn't the way he always spoke. It would be one hell of a job to actually get him to speak louder, otherwise, and that would be a challenge in itself, by the looks of things.

"Nah. I don't usually do anything during my break, anyway." Dean said, waving his free hand to emphasize his point. "Come on, I'll grab the key from behind the counter and get you settled in."

**-:-**

"No way! Is that really our dearest little brother?" Balthazar asked in shock as soon as he walked into the backstage change room that night. "Cas! It's been so long! How're you doing?"

Dean barely glanced up, but next to him, he knew that Castiel was most likely shrinking back. Mostly due to the fact that Gabriel was on his other side and taunting him mercilessly as the strawberry blond changed into a pair of very loose brown pants that resembled a skirt more than anything and several wood carved bangles.

"Gabriel, why didn't you tell us that Cas was the one you'd managed to wrangle into joining the club?" the older persisted a moment later, dropping his gym bag and planting his hands on his hips.

Balthazar was one of the two eldest brothers in the family, and one of the first to have escaped their father's less than forgiving grip. His blond hair was cropped short and naturally stuck up in the front, while a pair of matching green eyes sparked with his ever so charming personality. Laugh lines creased around the edges of his eyes and lips, and there was a decent amount of stubble lining his jaw and upper lip.

"Hello, Balthazar." Cas greeted quietly.

"Aw, is that any way to greet your brother?" the elder male snorted, moving forward smoothly and wrapping Castiel into a tight embrace. "It's good to see you again."

Dean cleared his throat, feeling as though he were intruding on something that he shouldn't be, and then stood upright, lifting a brow.

"Balt, I suggest you get changed. Crowley wants to see us onstage in ten to do last minute lighting changes." He said, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder. "And Cas, I suggest you go and find somewhere to sit and watch the show before Bela shows up. That bitch'll try and stab you in the back in two seconds.

"Hey!" Gabriel protested, shooting up like a gopher.

"Don't even." Balthazar broke in. "Dean's right and we all know it."

The strawberry blond opened his mouth, as if to say something else, before closing it and turning his back on the men, obviously sulking. Balthazar shook his head and muttered something under his breath before turning his attention back to his gym bag and unzipping it, grabbing some kind of fabric and laying it on one of the benches before beginning to strip off his shirt.

"Honestly, everyone around here is completely insane." Dean muttered to Castiel, finishing wrapping his feet with bandages before straightening and flexing his toes. "Come on. I'll take you out to the bar. Sam'll keep you company if it's not too busy."

"Alright." The dark haired male agreed. At this point, he'd take the company, even if said male wasn't even going to be talking to him face to face. As long as he was in the same proximity as the male, he'd be fine.

And had he mentioned that he was really, _really_ regretting all of this?


	3. Chapter 3

As it turned out, it was a 'quiet' night at Crossroads Lounge. Despite that fact, Castiel was finding it difficult to keep his thoughts on one track as the loud base from the musical numbers blared over the surround sound speakers, and with the giggling men _and_ women on either side of him, he knew that he was going to have a migraine by the end of the night. As it was, the promise of Sam's company _did_ help him stay sane. Especially when a middle aged woman sauntered up to the bar and almost immediately began flirting with him.

"Hey there, handsome." She purred, eying him up as though he were a piece of meat underneath her bright red pumps. Her cleavage was far too obvious with the slinky black number she was wearing, and coupling that with her perfume, Cas found himself feeling quite nauseous as he reclined as far away from the woman as he could without falling off of his stool. His eyes roamed the long bar, and unfortunately for him, Sam was otherwise occupied with a petite blond who appeared to be in a deep conversation with him.

"What's a nice boy like you doing in a place like this?" the woman continued, leaning forward, her brunette hair falling around her shoulders. Blue eyes continued to all but violate his personal space as she looked him over, and Cas found that he honestly could not find himself able to speak up in his own defense.

"Uh…" he stalled, trying to think of something, anything, really, that would get him out of this situation and back in a certain level of comfort.

"Oh, don't be shy." The woman pouted. "I don't bite…not hard, anyways."

"Excuse me, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave him alone." An all too familiar voice said from Cas' right, and a moment later, the brunette was pushed back into her stool. "I think it's fairly apparent that he's not interested."

"Oh? And why do you say that?" the brunette asked, turning her attention to Cas' savior- Sam. "And how would you know?"

"Because he's my boyfriend." Sam replied sharply, seamlessly leaning across the counter and pulling Cas in for a quick kiss full on the lips before pulling back and looking the brunette defiantly in the eye. Cas fought to keep his features neutral as her eyes flicked back to him, although he could feel his cheeks burning and knew that he probably resembled a cherry at this point.

"Well, you can't blame a woman for trying." The brunette sighed, sliding off of her seat and adjusting her dress before sauntering off, no doubt in search of her next target. He watched her go, not even noticing that Sam was trying to get his attention until his hand fell on his shoulder.

"Hey. Cas. Castiel." The brunette was saying, his face worried. "You alright?"

Cas blinked.

"Look, sorry about that. I wouldn't have done it if she hadn't been so persistent, and I shouldn't have done it anyway. Are you alright?" Sam asked, rubbing the back of his neck. Cas absently noted that the brunette's hair was tied back in a low tail, and he was currently wearing a white tie, but before he could say anything further, the tall male had poured him a drink of some kind and planted it down in front of him.

"You look a little pale. Do you need me to take you to your room?"

Cas shook his head mutely.

"Are you sure?"

He nodded. He had a lot on his mind now, thanks to that, but at the moment, all he wanted was to sit right where he was and absorb what exactly had just happened.

Well, that was fairly obvious.

He'd just been kissed.

On the lips.

By someone he barely knew.

His day was just getting better and better, wasn't it?

**-:-**

Almost immediately after the show, Gabriel and Dean went over to the bar to grab some of the cleaning supplies to begin wiping down tables and chairs, only to find a slightly drunk Castiel chuckling with Sam about something that had to do with a lawnmower. As to what exactly the lawnmower had done, neither male was certain, but under normal circumstances they doubted that the pair would find it that amusing.

"Cas?"

"Gabriel." The dark haired male greeted brightly, whirling around in his seat and almost falling over. Luckily, however, Sam had been leaning fairly heavily on the bar, and was able to snag the other male's arm and haul him upright in his chair again with an amused laugh that sounded ever so breathless.

"Are you drunk?" the strawberry blond asked carefully, unsure of what to think about this. He'd never really seen his brother after he'd gotten old enough to get out of that damned house, so he didn't really know what to expect from his inebriated younger brother.

"Maybeeee…" Cas drawled, a little smirk crossing his features as he swung back around in his chair again, looking, for lack of a better word, like an excited two year old.

"Hey, Gabe, I'm headed ou- wow. Is Cas drunk?" Balthazar asked, backtracking from where he'd just been about to leave. "Who knew he had it in him?"

"Ha ha. Very funny." Cas rolled his eyes. "I _am_ sitting right here, you know. Contrary to what you might think, I'm not deaf, just drunk. Or something."

"He's drunk." Gabe deadpanned back to Balthazar, who laughed loudly as he continued on his original path to leave the building.

"See you all tomorrow~!" he called just before the door closed.

Which left two sober males and two drunk males in the building. The majority of which who still had to clean up the floor and tables and then get back over to the Roadhouse.

At this point, it was beginning to look like an impossible task, but luckily, Gabriel had infinite patience when it came with dealing with alcohol and the aftermath of alcohol.

"Sam, you sober enough to clean up, or do I need to help you?" he asked briskly, beginning to move over to the counter.

"I'm good." Sam replied with a lazy salute. "I can still see only one of you, so I'll assume that means I'm cleared for duty."

"Yes it does. You know what to do." Gabe replied fondly. "Cas, you're obviously unable to do much without falling off your chair. You're cut off, and you need to sit there where you can't hurt yourself too badly. Dean, start cleaning the tables. I'll grab the mop from the back."

The small group broke up and began to do what they were told, Cas surprisingly included. And perhaps it was just because there was some alcohol involved, but the clean-up seemed to be done quicker than usual. Without any hesitation, Gabe sent Sam and Dean off to the Roadhouse and made sure that they didn't kill themselves as they crossed the back alley to get to the parking lot and through the front door, and then he turned back to his little brother.

"Come on, you." He muttered, moving over to the dark haired male and slinging an arm around his neck, "Time to get you to a toilet so you can hurl up whatever you were drinking."

"I'm not going to puke." Cas denied vaguely, staring up at the ceiling as Gabe began leading him across the floor towards the back exit. "Where're we going?"

"We," Gabe muttered as they got to the back alley, "Are going downstairs to my place. I don't think I trust you enough to be drunk under Ellen's roof just yet. She'll probably kill you for ruining her rug."

"I'm _not_," Cas said defiantly, "going to puke."

"Uh huh. You make it ten minutes and I'll believe you."

"Fine."

Snorting, the blond led Cas down two stairs to another door set into the wall, and within moments, he'd unlocked the door and was leading Cas down several more before a light flicked on, illuminating the room.

All things considered, it was fairly simple. It was all open, save for four large support beams that ran down the middle of the space, but comfortable. In the far back corner, the concrete walls that joined the corner were covered in a dark red fabric, and the bed itself looked more like a giant mattress or several that resembled more of a nest than anything, what with the hundred or so pillows and several blankets that lined it. Next to the bed, there was a narrow hallway that probably led back to the bathroom, and on the other side of the gap was the other corner, which had been turned into a miniature library. There was a kitchen lining the rest of the wall next to the reading nook, and it stretched all the way down to the entrance of the space. On the other side was a long living space, complete with several large, black leather couches and a widescreen television.

Cas didn't really comprehend any of this, though, as Gabe led him down the space and plopped him down on a simple wooden chair at the small kitchen table before going over to the sink and grabbing a glass of water for his brother.

"So, you enjoying being drunk?"

"It could be better." Cas replied, putting his forehead onto the cool tabletop.

"Why's that?" Gabe asked, sitting across from the dark haired male and setting the water down gently by his hand.

"Sam kissed me."

"What?"

Instantly, there was red colouring his vision, and he had to clench his fists to contain himself.

"Some older woman was flirting with me, and he helped get rid of her by saying he was my boyfriend. Then he kissed me."

Oh. Oooohhhh. Now it made sense.

"Let me guess. That was your first gay kiss." He teased lightly.

"Mhm." Cas moaned pathetically, not lifting his head.

"Little brother, there's a lot you don't know about the world you've stepped into." Gabe sighed, shaking his head. "Most of the people who work for me also happen to be fluid in their sexuality at the very least. Trust me, nothing will happen thanks to it. Sam was just doing what he thought he had to. Mind, he doesn't usually do that unless there's a good reason, so I'm going to assume that I'll be updated tomorrow on what happened and who it was that was flirting with you."

The blond smirked at the groan that came from Cas.

"Nauseous yet?" he asked with mock sincerity.

"I hate you." Cas growled, just as he bolted upright and leapt off the stool.

"At the end of the hall~!" Gabe sang as his little brother took off. Moments later, the sound of retching came to his ears, and the blond hummed a little tune as he got up to go check on him.

"I'm going to kill you." Cas groaned.

"Wait until tomorrow before you try that." He advised.

"I'll be dead tomorrow."

"Well, it's a good thing you lived today then."

"You're not helping."

"I'm not trying to."


End file.
